


Sunday Dinner Disaster

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Dennifer - Freeform, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Human Jennifer, Jennifer is not the Darach, Marriage, Pregnancy, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunday dinners in the Hale apartment required mandatory attendance from both residents. Jennifer Hale, who sometimes felt she was one of the only humans now living in Beacon Hills, knew it was important to establish and maintain normal traditions within her world of werewolves, hunters, and druids. One day Derek arrives home late for this meal and his hormonal, pregnant wife isn’t too happy. Who knew an ordinary human could scare a big, bad alpha werewolf?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Dinner Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> I love canon Jennifer, but it's fun to write her as a sugary-sweet human too. This prompt was suggested by lalalover. I hope you like it, dear!

Sunday dinners in the Hale apartment required mandatory attendance from both residents. Jennifer Hale, who sometimes felt she was one of the only humans now living in Beacon Hills, knew it was important to establish and maintain normal traditions within her world of werewolves, hunters, and druids. Even if Derek had been tracking a rogue kanima hundreds of miles across the West Coast for six days, it was non-negotiable that he had to make it home for the 7 o'clock meal. He had cut it close before, stumbling through the door at 6:58 covered in leaves, branches, and a suspicious green substance. After receiving a harsh glare from his wife, he'd made it a priority to be early every Sunday, especially now that Jennifer was several months pregnant and quite moody. He rarely left the apartment on her special day for fear of missing dinner and having to suffer the consequences. 

That was why it surprised Jennifer when one Sunday afternoon Derek rushed around the apartment grabbing sealed jars of mistletoe and wolfsbane, shouting something about helping Scott with an omega problem just as she was starting dinner, a labor-intensive dish of lasagna and homemade garlic bread. 

"Don't be late, Derek!" she shouted after him, tying an apron around snugly around her expanding middle.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he responded, quickly running through the kitchen to kiss her before heading out the front door, closing it tightly behind him.

Nearly three hours had passed since then, and while the sweet, concerned, newlywed version of Jennifer would've been concerned about the well-being of her werewolf husband out on a mission and willing to forgive him when he did come home, in her current hormonal state she was only looking forward to his return so she could chew him out for being late to dinner.

With a scowl on her face and an oven mitt in her hand, she pulled the lasagna pan partially out of the oven and frowned even harder when she saw it hadn't finished cooking yet. She forcefully slid it back into the oven, slammed the door shut and tore off her mitt. She took a moment to force herself to look past her anger and worry for Derek's safety for a moment. There had been no monster-related drama in Beacon Hills for over a year, but he occasionally felt compelled to, with the other werewolves in town, help out the surrounding area when homicidal supernatural beasts came knocking. Usually when Derek performed such duties, he gave Jennifer a time to expect him home or would call her to say he wasn't in danger. Wanting to feel neither worried nor furious about the situation, she decided to busy herself with finishing the dinner preparations until Derek came home.

Jennifer reached for the electric knife so she could start cutting the still-warm bread loaf into slices to serve with her special garlic spread. However, before her hand closed around the knife handle, she felt lips press into her neck and a pair of arms wrap around her from behind.

She screamed and shoved her way out of the intruder's grip. Upon turning around and seeing her tardy husband looking the tiniest bit smug, she narrowed her eyes, feeling far more pissed than relieved, and smacked him with the thick, albeit flimsy, oven mitt.

"It's 7:12, Derek Hale! What in God's name are you doing coming home so late?" Jennifer was prepared to deliver a ruthless lecture, so she surprised both herself and Derek when she started crying hysterically.

"What kind of a person," she sobbed, "doesn't even call to say he'll be late for the only scheduled event in his entire week, then use his stupid werewolf powers to creep up on and scare the hell out of his poor wife? The wife who, might I add, has been slaving away for hours in a hot, stuffy kitchen to make him dinner, putting her very blood, sweat, and tears into the meal. Really, though," she broke off, mumbling, "I'm pretty sure some sweat dripped into the three cheese mix." Derek chuckled, smiling wryly, but instantly regretted it when he saw the icy glint in Jennifer's eyes.

"And let's not forget I am six months pregnant with your seed." At this point she jabbed him sharply in the chest with her finger. "How would you feel carrying all that extra weight at the center of your balance? Would you enjoy the relentless, throbbing pain in your back and ankles? I. Think. Not."

Derek was speechless as she threw herself into a chair at the kitchen table. He knew he should have said something, but he felt frozen and mute. His wife had been a little emotional over the course of her first and second trimesters, but this was the worst mood swing yet. 

Jennifer started whimpering loudly, trying to catch her breath, all trace of anger gone from her demeanor as she wiped her tears away with her sleeve. With a miserable expression, she stopped bawling long enough to continue her rant, words tumbling out that didn't quite make sense.

"I bet freaking Kate Argent loved your sick games! I'm sure she was so turned on when you terrifyingly snuck up on her, or disappeared for hours without contact. You likely got off on whipping out your wolfy senses to impress the hundreds of one night stands you've probably had, too, as a result of that perfect body of yours!"

She sniffed and suddenly looked furious. She had no supernatural powers, but she was managing to scare the alpha werewolf in the room who had previously considered himself unable to be intimidated. Jennifer’s eyes landed on the knife on the counter beside her, but as she lifted a hand to grab it in a moment of desperation, Derek had already slid it down the counter and out of her grip, his movements all a blur.

"Like that!" she shrieked, pushing herself out of her chair as quickly as she could, turning to stomp out of the kitchen. Derek caught wrist and gently pulled her back to him, guiding her chin up with his hand, holding her gaze. 

"Jennifer, please don't be upset," he said softly, looking straight into her tear-reddened eyes. "I shouldn't have broken this promise, but I will make it up to you. You're my beautiful wife, and I'm so lucky to have you. I'll always be in debt to you because I get to have you as the mother of my child. Thank you for being your incredible self; I love you."

Jennifer stared at him in awe before calmly wrapping her arms around Derek's neck and falling into him. He held her there, kissing her head and stroking her back until she pulled away, resting her hands on his chest. 

"For being a man of few words, you really do know what to say to make me feel better," she admitted quietly, laughing bashfully as Derek wiped away the still-warm trails of tears on her cheeks. Her face still in his hands, he tilted her face up to his and placed and tender kiss on her lips.

"You deserve to relax. Why don't you go lie down and I'll finish dinner?" Derek suggested.

Completely back to her normal self, Jennifer scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"And let you negate the hours of tedious work I've put into this lasagna by having you burn it or crush the pan like the last three times? I don't think so." 

"Jen, I broke two casserole dishes. I'll do better tonight."

She shook her head, smiling, and gestured toward the bathroom off the kitchen. 

"You can make up for tonight with a multitude of massages later. For now, go shower. You kind of smell and—“ she paused as he turned around, revealing a large brownish-red stain on the back of his shirt. "Ugh, I really hope that's not your blood."

"That reminds me," he responded, stepping back to her. "You have to hear the story of Scott getting his claws stuck in the omega's ribcage."

“Oh, that’s just what I want to hear when I’m eating dinner.”

Derek laughed and shrugged. “Then I’ll just give you the censored version. It’s a really great story.”

He kissed Jennifer again, pulling her close to him with a hand on the small of her back, and placing his other hand on the round baby bump that strained against her apron. Jennifer smiled into the kiss and placed her hand on her stomach, overtop of his. 

"We can't wait to hear it."


End file.
